


Hold my hand tight

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Because of His Disability, Bisexual Harry Potter, Blind Character, Blind Draco Malfoy, Broken Draco, Broken Harry, Depression, Drarry, F/F, F/M, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Internalised Homophobia, LGBTQ, M/M, Manipulation, Mentions of Rape, Oblivious Harry, PTSD, Pansexual Draco Malfoy, Potential Slowburn, alot of non canon stuff, and child abuse, angst with happy ending, be prepared, but a lot of angst, but it’s relevant to the plot, cut them some slack, harry is intrigued by draco, he doesn’t know draco is blind until eighth year, he’s really oblivious, mentions of abuse, mentions of suicide maybe, obviously, ooc draco, probably slowburn, slowburn?, some homophobia, the death eaters take advantage of draco, they help each other, they’ve been through a lot okay?, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:28:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23732350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: All throughout the years at Hogwarts, Malfoy continued his reign. With easy grace, he ruled the halls of Hogwarts. A sharp tongue and quick wit, second to the top of the class, and the heir of the Malfoy family, Draco was a force to be reckoned with.Until sixth year.The Malfoy that had once had swaggered through the halls was gone. Replaced. His pristine perfect hair now hung over his eyes. Once upon a time he had been the prince of Slytherin, now reduced to a skittish child. He no longer strode, now staggering to each class. The quick temper that had wreaked havoc on unfortunate third years was no longer present. His air of confidence...gone.DISCLAIMER: My attempts in preforming the ritual were unsuccessful, so the wizarding world of Harry Potter belongs only to JK Rowling and Co.WARNING! Triggering themes such as rape, depression, ptsd, potential self harm, manipulation, homophobia, internalised homophobia, abuse, and child abuse may be mentioned throughout this story. Please take caution
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Draco/Harry, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Hermione/Ron, Luna Lovegood/Ginny Weasley, Seamus Finnigan/Dean Thomas, Seamus/Dean
Comments: 28
Kudos: 177





	1. Are you tired of me yet?

**Author's Note:**

> Hello lovely peoples. This idea came to be suddenly and thought, why not. So here’s a an eighth year blind Draco fic with lots of angst. Make sure to check out the warnings since there may be triggering themes throughout this fic. I hope you all are doing alright in quarantine and please stay safe. Love you all <3

The Savior of the Wizarding World did not hate Draco Malfoy. Despite popular beliefs and possible the beliefs of Harry himself, the Pureblood Prince of Slytherin intrigued Harry more than he induced hate. He radiated an aura that demanded authority and radiated mystery. Walking through the halls with a carefully blank face and long, purposeful strides, Malfoy was one of the most interesting people Harry had ever met. 

All throughout the years at Hogwarts, Malfoy continued his reign. With easy grace, he ruled the halls of Hogwarts. A sharp tongue and quick wit, second to the top of the class, and the heir of the Malfoy family, Draco was a force to be reckoned with. 

Until sixth year. 

The Draco Malfoy that had once had swaggered through the halls was gone. Replaced. His pristine perfect hair hung over his eyes. His perfect alabaster skin sported a grey hue. Once upon a time he had been the prince of Slytherin, now reduced to a skittish child. He no longer strode, instead staggering to each class. The quick temper that had wreaked havoc on unfortunate third years was no longer present. His air of confidence...gone. 

Harry knew why. He knew what had finally quelled his Slytherin rule. What happened to the raging storm known as Draco Malfoy? What happened to the passion and fire behind every spell he spoke? 

It was plain and simple. The horrible truth that the ministry had tried so desperately to hide from the public. Voldemort was back. No one was safe anymore. That included Draco, son of Lucius Malfoy, a devoted follower to The Dark Lord himself. 

Harry prided himself on the ability to observe people. He relied on his gut and his instincts to read people. But Harry wasn’t sure why Malfoy seemed so scared all the time. He startled at any noise and flinched if someone was to even brush passed him. Surely being a Death Eater’s son, he would be protected, even if it was provided by the “bad guys”. He would assume that Voldemort would need all help from his followers in order to accomplish his plan, whatever that may be. He automatically assumed that Voldemort would return this so called _help_ that his followers provided. That lead to the question that loomed over Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts. Why was Malfoy so _scared_? 

It never occurred to Harry once that Voldemort might use fear instead of camaraderie in order to control his followers like puppets.

Harry wished he could help Draco, but his instincts told him otherwise. Malfoy was up to something and he took it upon himself to figure out what he was scheming. He didn’t have time to worry about the potential Death Eater. So, he bottled up any other feelings for Malfoy and tried to focus on the bad. If only he could have done that. If only he would’ve hated Draco Bloody Malfoy. Then, maybe he wouldn’t have felt as shitty as he did when he found Malfoy in the bathroom and used that damned spell. Maybe Harry could have prevented the events that allegedly led to Dumbledore’s death. The horrible events that uncovered yet another horrible truth. Draco Malfoy had tried to kill Dumbledore.

Seventh year came sooner than Harry would have liked. With Dumbledore's mission the only thing on his mind, him, Hermione, and Ron started their journey to find the Horcruxes. One can only imagine Harry’s surprise when he came face to face to Draco Malfoy himself when they were captured by a group of snatchers. Apparently they had been taken to Malfoy Manor. There, he saw Malfoy. He looked even thinner and weaker than he had during sixth year. He had been staring blankly at a wall with a large man he recognized as Fenrir Greyback looming over his small figure. 

Bellatrix, Lucius, and some other Death Eaters he didn’t quite recognize had entered the room. Harry was thrown to the floor and Malfoy brought over. He could still remember Lucius’s vicious tone as he ordered his son to clarify that this was indeed Harry Potter. Grey eyes met his own and Malfoy muttered an incantation. Then, Malfoy's small voice answered, “I can’t be sure. His magic is...it’s all muddled…” 

Harry didn’t quite know why Draco couldn’t just look at Harry and give the say so, even if his face was all disfigured. He didn’t say anything, and silently thanked Hermione for whatever she had done to him. 

The fear on Malfoy’s face as he was suddenly dragged away by Fenrir Greyback was permanently imprinted into Harry’s brain. The screams and pleas for help when the werewolf had dragged him out of the room played on repeat. But those memories only haunted his dreams as it was soon forgotten when the rest of the events at Malfoy Manor transpired. Hermione tortured, Luna found, Dobby dead. 

The Golden Trio didn’t see Malfoy again until the Battle of Hogwarts. Somehow he had gotten even thinner and paler. He had a visible shake and winced in every step he took. Harry hadn’t noticed at the time. His brain had been on overdrive during the whole battle. It wasn’t until the nightmares and replaying memories that Harry was able to remember these things. Memories full of fire and screams as Malfoy’s tear-streaked face twisted in agony at the loss of Vincent Crabbe. Nightmares full of harsh words and cries for help.

Then the war was over. People died and people survived. Hogwarts was rehabilitated and open in time for another year of classes. 

After everything was said and done, after the trials and the rebuilding and the therapy sessions, Harry never expected to see Malfoy again. He never expected to see the day where Draco Malfoy would return to Hogwarts for their Eighth Year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a sort of prologue, so the future chapters will be longer. I hope you enjoyed this peek into this au. If you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to comment down below or just comment in general. Seriously, comments give us authors so much life. Thanks so much for reading :D


	2. Where did we go wrong?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you serious, Potter?” Parkinson asked in a shrill voice. 
> 
> Harry wasn’t quite sure why everyone was looking at him as if he just told them he sacrificed children to flobberworms as a hobby. “What?” 
> 
> “Harry,” Hermione started gently. “Please tell me you know.” 
> 
> “Know what, Hermione?” 

“You’re staring, mate.” Ron nudged Harry with his elbow, causing Harry to snap his gaze away from the Slytherin table. 

“D’you say something?” 

Ron frowned, exchanging a look with Hermione, who was sat across from them. “Look, Harry, the war’s over. You don’t have to keep watching Malfoy.”

“Wh...What? I wasn’t staring.” His friends exchanged glances once more. He let out an irritated huff. “Fine, maybe I was, but look at him. He looks...he looks…” He gestured helplessly to the blond. 

“Like shit,” Ron provided with a smirk. 

“Ronald!” Hermione squawked, slapping his hand. She looked back to Harry. “Just...don’t start any trouble. This year should be all about new beginnings. Healing old wounds from the war. It'll be hard butHarry are you listening to me?” 

Harry nodded, fighting to keep his gaze focused on her. “Of course, ‘Mione. I’m not looking to start a fight." He met Hermione's wide brown stare. "I’m just confused.” 

Neville leaned forward from his spot beside Ron. “Confused about what, mate?” 

“Why did Malfoy come back? I mean with all he went through. Everything he did...Didn't you see him at the trials? He lookedwellfucked”

Ron scoffed, then spoke through a mouthful of potatoes. “We all went through fucked up stuff.” Neville nodded slowly. 

“Yeah, sorry, Harry. Malfoy isn’t really special.” 

Harry’s eyes drifted back to the Slytherin table. His friends were right of course. They'd all gone through a lot during the war, but Harry always been fascinated by Malfoy, whether he liked it or not. Most would call Malfoy a prick, but Harry felt there was something hidden behind his insults and sharp words. Something behind the facade that Malfoy so desperately upheld. The ravenette gave his head a shake, focusing back on his friends. 

“Attention, students!” McGonagall’s voice rang through the Great Hall. The clamour soon died down, allowing the Headmistress to speak. “I welcome you to Hogwarts! I do hope that everyone is recovering...” Her brows knit together, a whisper of a frown forming on her lips. “For the newcomers as well as a reminder for our returning students, please keep out of the Forbidden Forest.” McGonagall’s eyes drifted over to the Gryffindor table. “Curfew will be upheld, no excuses. Mr. Filch would also like to request that all Weasley products be prohibited. Now, I would also like to introduce the new Defense teacher, Professor Broder.” A tall, elegant looking woman with caramel skin and long auburn hair stood. She gave a light wave before sitting back down. 

“Blimey,” he heard Ron whisper. “She’s…” He stared in awe. Several other students whispered to each other at the newest addition to the Hogwarts staff.

“A teacher, mate. A teacher,” Harry consoled his best friend with a comforting shoulder pat. Ron nodded sadly. 

McGongall continued with her introduction speech, it soon coming to a close. “And with that! You all are dismissed! Eighth year students, stay behind.”

Once the bustling students had emptied out of the Great Hall, Mcgonagall motioned for them all to meet at the Hufflepuff table. She provided a weak smile and Harry noticed she suddenly looked much older than he had remembered. “I’m pleased to see so many of you have returned.” 

‘So many’ was an exaggeration. Only Ron, Hermione, Dean, Seamus, Neville and himself had come back from Gryffindor. Then the three Slytherins, Malfoy, Zabini, and Parkinson. Leaving Susan Bones and Hannah Abbot for Hufflepuff and Terry Boot, Micheal Corner, and Anthony Goldstein for Ravenclaw. A whopping total of 14 returning Eighth Years.

“We have provided a separate common room and dormitories for you eighth year students. Your room arrangements were in your letters, I believe...” she paused for a moment, then continued. “I’m very proud of all of you...I can imagine how hard it must be,” she added, her voice thick. 

There was a tense silence before Seamus abruptly slammed his fist on the table. “Even the Slytherins, Professor!?” He shouted in disbelief.

“Mr. Finnigan,” McGonagall started. 

“No, Professor,” he growled. “How could you say that? They,” he pointed to Malfoy, Zabini, and Parkinson, “worked for _Voldemort_!”

“Now that’s out of line, Finnigan!” Zabini roared. 

“Oh yeah!?” Seamus challenged, standing to his feet. “Tell that to all the Muggles, Muggleborns, and Halfbloods that You-Know-Who KILLED! That your own FAMILY tortured! You have NO right to be here!” 

Parkinson stood to her feet this time. “Fuck you, Finnigan! Mine and Blaise’s families weren’t even Death Eaters!” 

“Yeah!?” Seamus hissed. “Then what about Malfoy here!? His FATHER-”

“Draco is NOT his father!” Parkinson shrieked. 

“Pansy, _stop_.” Malfoy’s comment was barely audible.

“NO, Draco! I won’t allow them to drag you around like this!” Zabini this time.

“They have every right to be angry with me, Blaise. Just stop.” 

“They have NO idea what you’ve-” 

“Now that's quite enough!” McGonagall interrupted Parkinson. Several people flinched at her harsh tone. “I will not tolerate this kind of behavior! If I hear of this again, you _will_ be serving detention. You are dismissed.” 

“But where’s the-” Neville started as everyone stood up. 

“Mr. Malfoy will show you to the dorms,” she quipped and was gone. Everybody was at a standstill, their shocked expressions locked on Malfoy. 

_Why would Malfoy know where it is_? Harry was sure that was the question everyone was asking. 

“Well then. Follow me.” Malfoy rushed out of the great hall, his robes billowing behind him. Parkinson and Zabini were the first to follow and the rest soon trailed after. Ron nudged Harry’s side. 

“How d’you reckon Malfoy knows the way?” He whispered. Harry shrugged, adjusting his glasses in the process. 

“Not sure, mate.” His eyes fell on the back of Malfoy’s head. “Maybe he came here before everyone else. I don’t remember seeing him on the train.” 

Ron nodded thoughtfully. “I guess you're right.” They continued down the hall and up to the fifth floor until Malfoy stopped in front of a painting of an woman draped lazily on a cloud.

“Hello, Madame,” he heard Malfoy greet quietly. He turned to everyone else. “The password is ‘ _novis_ _initiis_ ’,” he announced. The painting opened to reveal a set of stairs. Stepping aside, he muttered an “after you” to everyone.

Soon, they entered the common room. Inside were several large, soft looking couches and patterned rugs scattered around the floor. In the center of the wall was a brick fireplace and bookcases lining the wall opposite. The four house tapestries were hung above the fireplace. 

“Cozy!” Dean commented cheerfully. There were several murmurs of agreement as everyone started to disperse. Susan and Hannah quickly retreated to their shared dorm, chittering excitedly about who-knows-what. The three Ravenclaws gathered around the bookcase, talking rapidly to each other and gesturing dramatically to several of the displayed books.

“Quite,” Parkinson’s replied shortly. “Well then, us Slytherins will leave.” She took Malfoy’s hand once more and nodded for Blaise to follow them. 

“Wait,” Hermione said. All three Slytherins stopped.

“Hermione!” Ron exclaimed incredulously. 

“Oh quiet, Ronald!” Hermione hissed. “They were in the same war as us. They deserve a chance.” 

“But Hermione...” Ron almost begged.

“Hermione, are you serious?!” Seamus spoke up. Harry sighed. He didn’t supposedly “save the world” for _this_.

Dean grabbed Seamus’s hand in an attempt to calm him down. Seamus shook his boyfriend away. “Weren’t you tortured in _his_ house, Hermione!?” The Irishman pointed to Malfoy. At this point, the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs had escaped to their dorms.

“Finnigan,” Zabini growled. 

“For fucks sake!” Harry exclaimed. “Would you all stop acting like toddlers!” 

“You’re one to talk, Potter,” Parkinson spat. “You didn’t even try to stop Finnigan earlier.” 

“I…” 

“Don’t,” Malfoy whispered. His eyes dropped to his hand intertwined with Parkinson’s. “We don’t need pity, _Potter_. We’re leaving.” His grip tightened in his friend’s hand and they turned to leave for the his dormitory. 

“What, you can’t walk without your seeing eye bitch, Malfoy!” Seamus taunted. Dean let out a gasp, his hand once again going to Seamus’. Hermione visibly tensed as Ron’s jaw hardened. Harry awaited the oncoming storm. Now they’d really done it. 

Malfoy froze, then turned slowly to face everyone. “Does my existence somehow _bother_ you, Finnigan? Well, allow me to apologize for my existing. I’m sure it would help everybody if I keeled over and died on the spot.” 

“Draco,” Zabini hissed. 

“No, Blaise. They’re right. My life is obviously such a burden! In fact, why not let Finnigan _crucio_ me right now? Would that be satisfying?! To make my life even more of a living hell?!” 

“Draco!” 

“Shut the hell up! I didn’t come here to become mates with a bunch of Gryffindors! I came here to _maybe_ make something of myself! So _maybe_ I won’t end up starving and useless on the streets of Diagon Alley because I can’t do a DAMN thing for myself! News flash, Finnigan. My life _isn’t_ easy! It never has been and I don’t need _you_ to make it any worse!” And with that Malfoy rushed down the hall, the sound of his door slamming followed by suffocating silence. 

As Harry pondered in what Malfoy had said, he couldn’t stop himself from blurting out, “What did he mean by ‘his life has never been easy’?” The room stilled, the popping of the fire practically deafening in the sudden silence. 

“Are you _serious_ , Potter?” Parkinson asked in a shrill voice. 

Harry wasn’t quite sure why everyone was looking at him as if he just told them he sacrificed children to flobberworms as a hobby. “What?” 

“Harry,” Hermione started gently. “Please tell me you know.” 

“Know _what_ , Hermione?” 

Ron let out a drawn out sigh. “Mate I knew you were oblivious but this has got to be a new record.” 

“Will someone tell me what the bloody fuck you’re talking about?!” 

“Malfoy’s blind, mate,” Neville finally replied after several heartbeats of silence. 

“WHAT!?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello guys! I hope you guys enjoyed this and Harry being an actual oblivious Gryffindor. Love you all and enjoy! <3


	3. I just have to keep telling myself that I’ll be fine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Malfoy shook his head, giving a self deprecating laugh. “Why am I telling you this? I hate you.” 
> 
> Harry didn’t know the answer either. “Well, I don’t hate you.” 
> 
> Malfoy sucked in a breath. “Don’t lie to me, Potter.”
> 
> “It’s true. I’ve always been intrigued by you. There was always something about you that was different—mysterious.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuses other than the fact that I’ve been too busy reading other Drarry fanfics instead of working on my own. Anyways I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, although I’m not to happy with it.

Harry jolted awake, a scream dying from his throat. Quickly, he sat up and scrabbled for his glasses. His nightmares seemed to be a nightly occurrence nowadays. “Shit,” he whispered shakily, throwing his bed curtain back and scanning the dorm. Thankfully he hadn’t awoken Neville or Ron. 

He screwed his eyes shut for a moment, trying to get the images from his nightmare out of his head. The lifeless bodies of Sirius, Dobby, Lupin, Tonks, Fred...and everyone else, illuminated with sickening green jets of light. Harry fidgeted with the hem of his shirt; his breathing finally steadied. 

The ravenette slid off the mattress and quietly padded out of the dorm, the door closing with a soft _click_. Harry glanced down the hallway leading to the common room. With a soft “ _lumos_ ”, he walked down the shadowed hall. 

When he neared, the sound of someone humming could be heard. Harry stopped, straining to see who was there. “Malfoy.”

The humming stopped. “Potter?” Malfoy’s greeting came out as a question. 

“Yeah,” Harry confirmed, continuing into the common room. Malfoy was sitting on the floor, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and a book in his lap. 

“What are you doing here?” Malfoy asked. His tone was quiet and guarded. 

“I could say the same for you,” Harry shot back. 

Malfoy hesitated before speaking again. “I couldn’t sleep.” Harry sighed. He closed his eyes briefly when the images of his dead friends and relatives wracked his brain once more

“Yeah, me neither.” He made his way to an armchair, sitting down heavily and drawing his knees to his chest. “What are you doing out here in the dark?” 

“Dark or not, it doesn’t make a difference to me,” he snapped. Harry let out a puff of air. 

“I guess you’re right.” 

Malfoy startled, his head whipping to look at Harry. A smirk crawled up his face. “You just agreed with me. Let this day be written in the history books!” Malfoy extended his arms in mock triumph. “How I’ve been yearning for this moment.” 

Harry couldn't help but laugh. “Oh bugger off, Malfoy.” There were a few seconds of silence. “About earlier today-”

“ _Don’t_ ,” Malfoy said firmly. “It doesn’t matter. They have a right to be angry with me.”

The Gryffindor rubbed his knees, regarding Malfoy thoughtfully. He couldn’t disagree. Malfoy had done a lot of things. A lot of things that Harry was still pissed about. But, that didn’t disregard the fact that Malfoy had saved his life. He decided to drop the topic and instead asked, “So, what book is that?”

Malfoy snorted and looked back at the thick book in his lap. “Lord of the Rings.” 

“Wait, what? That...Well that’s a _muggle_ book!”

Malfoy feigned surprise, bringing a hand to his cheek. “Merlin and Morgana! I had no clue!” 

Harry frowned. “Shove off, Malfoy.” The blond snickered in response. 

“I know it’s muggle, Potter. That’s the whole point.”

Harry adjusted his glasses. “So after all these years, you’ve a sudden change of heart?”

Malfoy’s smirk melted. “What do you want from me, Potter?” The ravenette’s frown deepened. 

“I don’t want anything. I didn’t even know you were out here.”

“Well, why are you _still_ here?” 

“Nightmare. I need to clear my head.” Malfoy hummed and looked back to his book, his fingers gliding delicately over the pages. “What are you doing?” He blurted. Malfoy’s fingers paused. 

“What?” 

“With your fingers.” 

The Slytherin barked out a laugh. “I’m _reading_ , Potter.” Harry rolled his eyes. “How else am I to read? With my eyes?” His voice was laced with wry humor. 

“I guess not…” Harry scowled. “So then _how_ are you reading?” Malfoy glanced up at Harry, heaving a sigh, and motioned for the Gryffindor to come over. Harry reluctantly stood up and plopped himself beside the blond. 

“Give me your hand,” Malfoy directed. Harry sputtered. 

“ _What_?” 

“Oh come off it, Potter. I won’t bite, just give me your sodding hand.” 

Harry sighed and placed his hand on Malfoy’s outstretched one. He directed Harry’s fingers to the page and slowly moved it across the page. “Oh!” Harry whispered in surprise. “There’s little bumps.” 

Malfoy huffed and nodded, letting go of his hand. “Those ‘bumps’ are letters. It’s how I read.” 

“Letters? What d’you mean?” 

Malfoy grabbed his hand once again. He let it glide across the page once more, allowing Harry to feel each dot under the pad of his finger. “What did that say?” Harry breathed. 

“ _All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us_.”

“Wow…”

Malfoy shoved Harry’s arm away. “No need to be so excited over something trivial.” Harry laughed lightly.

...

“It was also invented by muggles,” Malfoy stated. Harry turned to look at Malfoy, his face was wistful and sort of sad. 

“What was?”

“Braille. The ‘ _little bumps_ ’.”

“And your parents let you learn it?” Harry asked carefully. A wry smile played on the blond’s lips. 

“No. I had to ask the house elves for help. Mother would just read to me instead of allowing me to learn such _‘unnecessary muggle inventions’.”_

“And your father?” 

Malfoy looked to his hands. “Father pretended I didn’t exist. I was ‘disgraceful, useless, a _freak_ ’.” Harry winced at the last word. He’d definitely heard that a few thousand times. Malfoy shook his head, giving a self deprecating laugh. “Why am I telling you this? I hate you.” 

Harry didn’t know the answer either. “Well, I don’t hate you.” 

Malfoy sucked in a breath. “Don’t lie to me, Potter.”

“It’s true. I’ve always been intrigued by you. There was always something about you that was different—mysterious.” 

“Different?” 

Harry chuckled. “Don’t get me wrong, you were a right git—”

“Still am,” Malfoy added quietly. 

“—but you were always interesting. I dunno, just something _new_.” 

“And after all those years of stalking—”

“Hey!” 

“—you didn’t realize I was blind?”

“You were quite good at hiding it!” Harry exclaimed, desperate to defend himself. 

“No I bloody wasn’t! I slammed face first into the door to the Great Hall on multiple occasions!” Harry guffawed at the mental image. “Don’t you dare laugh at me, you arsekettle!” 

…

“Malfoy.” 

“Hmm?”

“I don’t actually hate you, you know.” 

“Sure, Potter.”

“I don’t!” 

Malfoy gave him an incredulous stare. “I did a lot of things Potter.” 

“Yeah, you saved my life.” 

“You know that’s not what I bloody meant.” 

“I don’t care!” 

“I couldn’t even see your face, how was I supposed to know it was you!” 

“Don’t act stupid. There was a spell. I heard you.” 

“Whatever, Potter. I couldn’t tell, and if you call that ‘saving your life’ then so be it.” 

Harry huffed. “So be it.”

…

“So what spell did you use then?” No answer. “Malfoy?” Harry turned. Malfoy had fallen alseep, his chest rising and falling steadily. His blond fringe hung messily over his closed eyes and Harry had the sudden urge to brush it away. He smiled fondly and gently took the book from Malfoy’s lap, setting it on the coffee table. Then, leaving him to sleep on the floor, he went back to his dorm.

* * * 

“OW! SALAZAR! FUCKING SHIT!”

Harry was on his feet in seconds, the sound of enraged shouting no doubt awaking everyone else. He was met with the equally shocked faces of Ron and Neville. A quick _tempus_ revealed it was 5:43

“What the hell is happening at this time?” Ron growled and stomped out of the dorm. Harry and Neville hastily followed. The common room was slowly filling with their fellow eighth years in search of the sudden commotion. Hermione and Malfoy stood in the middle of the room in a sort of standoff. 

“What is going on?” Terry Boot asked tiredly. “I didn’t have to get up for another...” —he glanced at his muggle watch—“...thirty minutes.” 

“Why were you sleeping on the floor!?” Hermione shrieked. Malfoy rubbed his head, shooting a glare at her. 

“Fell asleep,” he snapped. 

Harry groaned, rubbing a palm across his face. “Why did you fucking scream?” Ron growled. 

“She threw a bloody book at my head,” Malfoy scowled, wincing as his hand touched the purpling bruise on his forehead. 

“I got spooked!” Hermione explained. 

“So your first reaction was to chuck a book at his head?” Neville questioned, hiding a smirk behind his hand. 

Hermione sighed. “Look, I’m sorry. I just didn’t expect you to be laying there.” She gestured lamely to the floor. 

Malfoy seemed to deflate from his defensive mood. “It’s fine,” he mumbled and hurried out of the room, Zabini and Parkinson following en-suite.

“Bloody Malfoy, leave it to him to ruin my morning,” Ron mumbled. 

“Hey Ron,” Harry said whilst the three of them made their way back to their own dorms to get ready for classes. 

“What is it, mate?” 

“Maybe...maybe we should try to be nicer to the Slytherins?” Both Ron and Neville froze. 

“ _What_?”

Harry tapped his fingers against his thigh. This year was supposed to be about a new beginnings, right? He’d stayed up several hours after he left Malfoy, thinking. Malfoy had changed. At least it seemed like he changed. He’d have had to to be reading that muggle book right? Harry met Ron’s demanding stare. But with the way the redhead was looking at him, his ideas of making peace with the Slytherins deflated. 

“Never mind,” Harry muttered. 

“Hey, Harry.” Neville grabbed his shoulder before Harry could walk away. “Why’re you bringing this up all of a sudden?” He gazed at him with an expression open. 

Harry drew a breath. “I sort of talked with Malfoy last night.” 

“ _What_!?” Seamus’ voice demanded from behind them. 

Harry whirled around to face Seamus and Dean, quick to defend himself. “I had a nightmare and needed to clear my head! Malfoy was in the common room when I went out there.” 

“Why? What was he doing out there?” 

“Just reading. Said he couldn’t sleep.” Seamus was gaping at Harry as if he had shoved a whole pumpkin pasty in his mouth in one go. Not that he’d ever done that. 

“What did you talk about?” Neville asked carefully. Harry shrugged. 

“Not really anything important…” he trailed off, remembering their conversation about Malfoy’s parents. “He told me about Braille.” 

“Br—what?” Ron questioned. 

“It’s how he reads. With being blind and all.” 

Seamus shook his head. “Harry are you mad? He’s a _Death Eater_.” 

“Was,” Harry corrected. “The war is over, mate. I’m not saying we have to be friends with them. Just...just maybe try not to be an arse?”

The Irishman scoffed. “Only if _they_ aren’t arses.” 

“Well, they were only arses once you riled them up,” Dean spoke up.

“I guess so,” Seamus murmured. He met Harry’s eyes once more. “I’ll try to be friendly to them, but I’m only doing this for you.” 

Ron heaved a dramatic sigh. “Fine, Harry. You’re my best mate.” 

A grin stretched across Harry’s face. A year of new beginnings...Perhaps this year could bring about a difference in all of them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, what do you guys think? Did I do well on a tentative start to Harry and Draco’s relationship. I don’t want to rush it, but I think I did a good enough job. Love you all, thanks for reading!! :D


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